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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29192418">Many a Gorgeous Flower Sprout from Vicious Seed</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Lemur/pseuds/Anonymous_Lemur'>Anonymous_Lemur</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Ancient Greece, Ancient History, Ancient Medicine, Ancient Persia - Freeform, Angst, Archaeologist!Akaashi, Arranged Marriage, Athens, Banishment, Canon Divergent, Curses, Did I Mention Angst?, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fighting, Fluff, General!Ukai, Hurt/Comfort, I made it as accurate as I could, Im sorry Ancient Greek marriages were fucked up, Internal Conflict, Lots of Angst, M/M, Misogyny, No Smut, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Sparta - Freeform, The Battle of Salamis, Warrior!Daichi, Warrior!Kuroo, battles, doctor!suga, im sorry about the bokuaka, light cursing, no beta we die like spartans</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:48:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29192418</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Lemur/pseuds/Anonymous_Lemur</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An Ancient Greece alternate universe during the Persian/Greek war and more specifically the battle of Salamis. Hinata’s story follows being banished, he has red hair and therefore would have been thought to be cursed. Ancient Greeks were harsh. Kuroo was born and raised as a warrior in Sparta, but would rather be studying in Athens. Yachi feels conflicted about the cute girl next door. Yamaguchi has been blessed, or more accurately, cursed, with the gift of prophecy. Akaashi is an archaeologist uncovering a growing mystery surrounding Bokuto, the hero of a disaster-struck village. Ukai is the commander of the fleet of ships ambushing the Persians. Tendou leads the Persian navy with his right-hand-man, Ushijima Wakatoshi. Suga is a medic treating the warriors, and Daichi is a warrior being treated. The Sugadai, I can promise you, is nothing but fluff. I’m so sorry if some things aren’t historically accurate, a lot of the more specific things are harder to find resources on. Unfortunately for this Tsukishima doesn’t have glasses because they weren’t invented until around the Renaissance, I think.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Kuroo Tetsurou/Yachi Hitoka, Michimiya Yui/Sawamura Daichi, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Shimizu Kiyoko/Yachi Hitoka, Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. In the Face of the Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>*ahem* hi! So I thought I might do little more introduction stuff that wouldn’t work in the summary. First off, demokratia is the Ancient Greek democracy. Secondly, I’m so sorry for the hyper angsty Bokuaka. I had to. I feel like it’s tradition to make Bokuaka angst now. I’m a stickler for historical accuracy, so if I get anything wrong please let me know! This introduction thing is a bit all over the place, but there’s a lot I want to get out of the way. I would also like note that not everyone lives in the same place, and if you would like a map I’d be happy to make one with everyone’s locations highlighted! The family tree stuff is a bit complicated, but I thought it’d be fun to have Daichi as an actual dad :)<br/>I think this note is a little overdramatized. I swear it’s not super complicated I’m just kind of freaking out and wanting to cover every possible thing. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!! :D</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kuroo wanted to be anywhere but here, where the stench of men and blood and the ocean reigned free. On a ship in The Strait of Salamis, waiting for the Persians to show, waiting to die, as war often went. This was Kuroo’s least favorite place, nearing battle, and he knew that of all the Gods, Aries was the one farthest away from Kuroo’s star in the sky. He didn’t quite want to be home, either, however- training for battle as soon as he reached seven and being married when he turned twenty-five, his life had passed far too quickly at his home in Sparta. Kuroo wished to live in Athens, Sparta’s enemy city-state although they shared a patron God. Athens was the headquarters of the creative arts, philosophy, and the sciences, exactly where Kuroo was meant to be, studying the world and mathematics with his peers and mentors; not sitting on a ship in the sea, waiting for Charon to take him away to Hades and rip him from any dreams of grandeur and success. But there was nothing he could do, so Kuroo waited to die.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yachi was crying in her bath, wishing she could turn back time, back to before she had been married or met her new neighbor, Kiyoko. There was something about Kiyoko she couldn’t ignore. Yachi wanted to be with her more often, her and her black hair and cold, grey marble eyes, and perfectly sculpted face. She must’ve been some kind of related to Aphrodite, she was gorgeous and confident, and Yachi knew many men had their eyes on her even though she, too, had been married off. Yachi wondered what her new husband would say if he was here. Would he let her go see Kiyoko? What was she to do if her husband wasn’t there? Should she stay at home, just in case Kuroo wouldn’t want her to go? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, Kuroo, I wish you were here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aakashi gently dusted away dirt from a vase, sun burning into his back. The dust mixed with his sweat on his skin and dripped down his forehead to the ground below him, and he wondered how the ancient Greeks had survived such heat without AC. Aakashi was sweltering, bent over a small patch of ground, carefully and slowly wiping away dirt searching for more relics of the past, and finally coming up victorious with a teensy shard of pottery, he grinned with satisfaction and hope. He was about to go back to digging when suddenly Yaku, a few yards away from Aakashi at the excavation, called out about a bone.</span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaku stared at the white bone beneath him disbelievingly, then picked up his brush and continued to skillfully remove the dirt hoping that maybe--just maybe--this time he had found a whole skeleton, maybe even with some jewelry or old weathered pieces of cloth. He almost squealed with excitement when he found what seemed to be an eye socket. Lev and Aakashi rushed over with their brushes as well to help uncover the skeleton whose clavicles were now fully exposed, confirming that this was a full skeleton.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tendou looked out over the Meditteranean Sea, shimmering and sparkly blue, rising and undulating like a huge magical beast keeping Greece safe. The beast would prove to be an obstacle, protecting Greece was its job and it wouldn’t take kindly to the inexperienced Persians running through its back to conquer the Greeks. But they needed to expand their hungry empire, and Greece, with its plentiful olive trees and thick forests, had been the perfect candidate. Tendou would take it, mold it, make it their own, no matter how many soldiers it took. He watched the waves pass beneath his ship with contempt and confidence, ready for his victory.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hinata leapt up his tree, snatching his spear and watching the ground with a hungry gleam in his eye. Whether the gleam was for food or battle, no one knew, although the villagers would think it was battle. The bush to his left rustled and Hinata flew through the air, spear poised and ready, teeth flashing and stomach snarling, jaw tensing at the thought of fresh food. Hinata missed the creature by an inch, sending his spear into the ground and snapping it in half instantaneously. Hinata cursed with frustration, not noticing the kid next to him that he had nearly killed until he stood up. He faltered, having not seen a villager for the first time in years, and not only a villager but a kid around his age, albeit a bit younger. He had eyes like the stormy sea and hair like the crow that flew above the forest. Terror struck Hinata when he realized that he was face-to-face with a person, probably hostile, and not only did he not have a spear but he was only wearing a few pelts of fur, which were matted and dirty from years of multiple uses. He fixed his face into a scowl, reminding himself that this boy wasn’t a friend. None of them were. He had been exiled for being cursed, for having red hair, and every villager ever in his forest had only been there to find him and finally finish off the demon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tsukishima inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the flowers in the courtyard, watching the blurred birds chase each other in the skies. Dreaming of growing up and studying in Athens, or meeting Homer, or both. Wondering if such a time could or would ever come, or if Persia would conquer Greece and kill everyone. What would happen if the Persians won? Would they turn every Greek into a slave, even the philosophers, artists, and scientists? Would they let them be? What would come of their demokratia? Of the Gods? Tsukishima’s mind turned dark as the thunderclouds in the sky, and just as tempestuous and swirling as the great cold winds that swept through the land when Zeus was angry. He felt eyes watching him, and turned to see the fuzzy outline of a small, scrawny boy staring at him intently through the windows and across the road. The mystery boy disappeared just as fast as he had been there, watching him, leaving Tsukishima slightly troubled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>Kageyama stood frozen, transfixed by the person in front of him, who had orange hair as bright as the flames in the hearth and eyes as sharp and cutting as a well-made sword. He wore nothing but old furs, and held a broken spear in his hand, the other end of which was buried in the ground where Kageyama had been sitting not a minute earlier. They glared into each other’s eyes until the orange haired boy held his broken stick in front of him defensively, </span>“Who’re you?” He asked suspiciously, still in a defensive position. “I’m Kageyama. Why are you in the forest? There’s a lot of dangerous things out here.” He answered, and the boy snarled. “You idiot. Get out of here before I eat you or whatever your mother told you I do. Or did the village already forget about their cursed child?”</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <span>Yamaguchi wandered to his home, aimless and worried. The boy he had been staring at earlier had seen him, and he was worried that the kid would find him. Yamaguchi didn’t know him and yet he appeared in almost every one of his dreams, in one way or another, but usually in a very bad way. Either he was killing or being killed, and in both of these scenarios Yamaguchi had some kind of attachment to him. He had to avoid him at all costs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daichi watched the vast expanse of blue in front of him longingly, wishing to be home with his family, his son, his wife… Here he was alone, with nothing but the water and the watchful eyes of the Gods to keep him company. He hoped Kageyama and Michimiya were safe, and he hoped he would see them again soon, healthy and alive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sugawara mashed some garlic, preparing for tomorrow, when they would charge into battle and inevitably need medicine and cures. He sighed, looking out of the window at the sun setting against the sea. Their ships and warriors were ready, the spy had returned, and the trap was set. All they had to do now was wait.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <span>Ukai stood at the helm of his ship, at the front of the small fleet tucked behind a peninsula in the Salamis Strait. He watched the stars rising in the East, recounting each constellation’s story to himself, thinking of being an innocent child again. Remembering the time when he played with his friends, learned the ways of exploring the seas, and the only things that worried him were the size of his future crew and the name of his very own trireme. Ukai thought of his old friends Takeda and Nekomata, each commanding their own trireme in the navy, and prayed for their safety during the war.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. And so, the battle begins.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Kopis: a sword commonly used by Spartan Hoplites in battle.<br/>Trireme: Ancient warship used by most empires, including Persia and Greece.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kuroo woke at the crack of dawn with the rest of the crew, everyone clanking around in armor and quietly whispering about who they thought would win. Some were praying as well, asking Aries or Athena to bless them in battle. Kuroo decided to do this too, but he thought it’d be best for his luck to pray to Athena, as she was the goddess of wisdom, something Kuroo was much more invested and used to. After he was done he ran up to the deck with his teammates, gripping his kopis tightly in his hand, knuckles white from the strain, and holding his shield loosely on his left side. Up deck it was dead quiet save for the gulls sweeping overhead and the waves sloshing peacefully against the hull of the ship, and as the sun began to rise so did the Persian ships appear; bows peeking cheekily around the tall peninsula that jutted into the strait. Kuroo shifted his kopis in his sweaty palm, attempting to cool his burning nerves, albeit unsuccessfully. His toes curled in his sandals with impatient energy, waiting for the ships to appear in their menacing entirety and strike them down with the force of an experienced army. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Kuroo thought of finally being released of his nervous burden and defeating the Persians, they completely rounded the corner, intricately detailed carved lions glistening in the new day’s light, shields reflecting the sun’s too-bright rays. The sight sent a shock of boldness and courage throughout Kuroo’s spine, and he let out a vicious and bloodthirsty yell that his crewmates, and soldiers on the neighboring ships, soon joined in with the eager and confident passion that only the bravest of warriors could experience.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their painted Grecian and the Persian’s regally sculptured triremes clashed in the water, sending up salty sprays and dousing some of the warriors already jumping to other ships. Kuroo charged forward with the crush of the crowd, raising his kopis over his head and yelling some more, leaping onto the enemy ship, turning to face his first challenger. He was met with the face of Persia’s greatest fighter, whom even Kuroo had heard of, Ushijima Wakatoshi. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His cool, ruthless eyes stared into Kuroo’s, obviously pinning him as a new victim. But Kuroo would not just go down without a fight, and he made his way quickly to Ushijima, determined to beat him first. Soon they were face-to-face and Kuroo could feel his heart beating in his throat. He slashed at Ushijima, slipping around him like a vicious snake, but Ushijima caught his kopis with his spear, face still stoic. Arrows rained down around them as they danced across the ship, Kuroo feinting and slashing and Ushijima catching him every time, accompanying each block with a few speedy and well placed stabs. Kuroo could tell that he was becoming a bit more frustrated that Kuroo wasn’t dying so easily, and he grinned his shit-eating grin, glad that even if he died today he had pissed off one of Persia’s fabled greatest warriors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo’s ego inflated and his moves became even more bold and sly, as though to taunt Ushijima. Ushijima, however, was having none of this, and Kuroo felt a sudden jab of blinding pain in his abdomen, looking down to find Ushijima’s long spear embedded in Kuroo’s solar plexus. Ushijima ripped it out with a vengeance, contempt and evil satisfaction glowing on his grinning face. Kuroo fell to the ground in front of him, shame bubbling up through him like blood, which was covering his shaking hands that desperately grasped at his fatal wound. Kuroo glared at Ushijima with the fiercest, angriest snarl he could, staring deep into his eyes as his life seeped away. Suddenly a hand grabbed the back of his armor and yanked him off the floor, tossing him almost completely to the side, although not letting go. Whoever had grabbed him dragged him away from battle as black seeped into the world around Kuroo, and he could hear the sounds of clashing armor getting further away as his supposed savior dragged him off. He wondered what he would wake up to, if he did at all.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>**SPOILERS**</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo does NOT die. This isn’t his end, I promise.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Warrior, Revived.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Bokuto gripped the man’s armor tightly with one hand, kopis in the other, slashing at anyone who came near him. He had noticed this guy crumpled up on the ground with a bad stab wound, and although Bokuto knew many men would fall today, he decided to try and minimize it as best he could. Even if it wasn’t a good idea, he had seen an injured comrade and just didn’t have it in his heart to let him die on the deck of an enemy ship, with little honor and no burial ceremony. At the very least he should die on his home land, in the sweet wildflowers and plush green grass. Bokuto managed to clamber down to the land with the heavily breathing body of the soldier in his arms. He gently laid him on the ground to rest for a second behind a tree stump, so that they would not be shot, and tried as best he could to stem the bleeding. The man was passed out with deep red blood trickling from his lips, face and arms scratched from the scuffle, and armor bent and broken as well. Bokuto knew that he wouldn’t be able to do much for the broken body in front of him, but determined to save him he picked the man up once more, jogging up the hill to look for a doctor of some kind. He spotted a small hut on the edge of a cliff and picked up speed, hoping to find help. As soon as he saw through the open front door he knew he made the right choice; in the room lay three other downed warriors on beds, one in the center of the room being attended to by a frenzied grey-haired man, whose assumed assistant stood over a table in the corner preparing salves and washing bandages. The assistant, a tall, golden brown muscular guy with short, spiky black hair and a chiseled jaw, noticed him and hurried over waving at Bokuto to put the injured soldier in his arms on one of the clean beds in the cramped room. Bokuto did so, softly putting him down and removing his helmet. “He- He got stabbed pretty bad in the stomach. He’s passed out and I’m not sure how much blood he lost. I tried to stop some of it, but, you know, it was already p-pretty bad.” Bokuto stuttered over his words as he tried to explain what happened to the assistant and the doctor, who had barely acknowledged Bokuto’s arrival. The assistant nodded and shut the door to anyone else since the small house and single doctor would not be able to take any more patients on. “Ok. He’ll be dealt with as fast as possible, but I have to warn you, he might not make it out alive.” The assistant had already started cleaning and inspecting the wound. “May I ask your name?” He added, looking up at Bokuto for a second. “My name’s Bokuto, Bokuto Koutarou. Who’re you guys?” The assistant nodded and scribbled Bokuto’s name down on a piece of papyrus. “I’m Iwaizumi Hajime, that’s Sugawara Koushi. What’s the patient’s name?” Bokuto paused for a moment and realized he didn’t know the man’s name. “I don’t know, I just picked him up off the ground.” He told Iwaizumi, shifting nervously. Sugawara walked over to them with a couple of jars in his hands and whispered something to Iwaizumi. Bokuto decided he probably didn’t need to be in here anymore and opened the door, stepping outside. The cool air brushed his face as he watched the deadly battle below him, and Bokuto noticed the Mediterranean already running red with blood. Bodies littered the beach, attracting seagulls. Bokuto turned away and walked back to the house in disgust. Back inside Suga and Iwaizumi were rushing around excitedly, hurriedly snatching at bandages and dabbing up globs of salves and mashed herbs. The man looked like he was coming to on the table, slowly nodding his head from side to side, until he groggily opened his eyes. Suga had just finished bandaging him up when he snapped upwards, whipping his head around. “Who’re you guys?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I’m so sorry I haven’t updated in forever, it’s a bit difficult to find motivation 😅</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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